


Reassurance

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-16
Updated: 2006-06-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:16:17
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: The aftermath of Sam's abduction.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Reassurance

  
REASSURANCE  
By Shorts  
  
The moon gave very little light to see by, as they made their way the five miles back to town. All Dean wanted was to lie down and stop moving. His head hurt and his shoulder was killing him. Another car was heading their way, and Sam pulled him off the road and across the ditch. Taking the opportunity to just sit still, he collapsed onto the ground, hidden by the long grass.  
  
"Dean, are you okay?" asked Sam, ducking as the passing headlights flashed over them. When they had started out Dean had been his usual self, but the further they walked, the quieter he had become. Not to mention, less observant. He had to practically yank Dean out of sight just now.  
  
"Yeah, never better," answered Dean, steeling himself to stand back up. "Just wish we were there already."  
  
"I don't think it's much further," said Sam, raising slightly from his crouch. "C'mon."  
  
Gritting his teeth, Dean followed Sam back to the edge of the road and continued to trudge behind him. Sam had been right, they entered the town as they rounded the next bend. It took another half hour to reach the car parked in front of the police station.  
  
Relief flowed through Dean at the sight of his car. He dug into his pocket for the car keys. "Hey, Sam . . . catch!" He tossed them to his brother and moved to the passenger side.  
  
Sam caught them in mid air. He paused to take a closer look at Dean under the streetlight, but Dean had already slipped into the passenger seat. Certain now that something was wrong, he quickly got in behind the wheel. "Dean, did something happen back there that you aren't telling me?" he asked, starting the car and pulling away from the curb.  
  
"Just drive, okay?" sighed Dean. "It's nothing that can't wait until we find a safe place to stop."  
  
"You sure?" Sam finally got a clear look at Dean's pale face. "We could find a room around here."  
  
"Not safe," ground out Dean, leaning against the car door. "Don't stop until we're at least two towns away. You hear me?" His injury wasn't life or death, it just hurt like a son of a bitch.  
  
"Yeah, I hear you," frowned Sam, knowing Dean was right, but not liking it at all.  
  
Sam hit the highway and drastically increased his speed, betting that the roads were clear of cops. More than likely, they were all at the house of horrors they had just left. He stole a glance at Dean slumped in the passenger seat, his imagination running wild at what had been done to him. Determined to find out, he practically shot through the first sleepy, small town and started looking for a roadside motel.  
  
As he drove, he thought back to when he entered the house in search of Dean. A rush of anger flowed through him again at the memory of that girl holding a knife aimed at Dean's eye. Under other circumstances, he might have felt guilty at hitting a child, but considering the family, he had no remorse at all. Cutting Dean loose and getting the hell out of there was the only thing he had been thinking about. He should have taken the time to assess Dean's condition then, not after they had hiked over five miles in the dark.  
  
Dean concentrated on the steady hum of the car, resisting the urge to tug away his jacket and shirt and look at the damage. He was pretty sure it wasn't that bad, his jacket had protected him a little. But even leather gave way to a glowing, white hot poker. He felt the car slow, and lifted his head to see where they were.  
  
Sam pulled into the small parking lot of a dimly lit motel. "I'll be right back." He opened his door to get out when Dean's hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.  
  
"Not without me," said Dean, forcing the words out.  
  
"Dean, the office is right there, not fifteen steps away," said Sam. "You'll be able to see me from here." He wasn't dumb, he understood exactly where Dean was coming from.  
  
Sitting up straighter, Dean scanned the empty parking lot and leaned slightly forward as he studied the glass front showing the office interior. "Okay."  
  
It seemed to take forever for the night manager to process everything and hand him the room key, but finally Sam was back in the car and guiding it toward their room. "Wait until I come around and help you."  
  
Dean looked at Sam with utter disgust. "Dude, I just walked five miles, I think I can make it to the room without your help."  
  
Sam opened his mouth, then closed it. Dean had a point. He grabbed their stuff, making sure he had the first aid kit, and hurried to their room.  
  
Entering the room, Dean made his way to a chair and collapsed into it.  
  
Seeing Dean slumped in the chair instead of automatically searching the room and bathroom set off alarms in Sam. He dropped their bags on the floor and locked the door, then quickly searched the place. Satisfied nothing was lurking to jump out at them, he fished out the first aid kit and set it on the table.   
  
Dean winced as Sam started tending to the cut above his temple after cleaning the dried blood off his face.  
  
"Sorry," grimaced Sam, lightening his touch as he applied butterfly strips to hold the gash closed. As he leaned in, he caught a whiff of a smell that drew his attention to Dean's jacket. He spotted the charred hole in the shoulder of the leather and his eyes widened. "What the hell?" His hand automatically reached out toward it.  
  
"Don't," flinched Dean, trying to back away.  
  
Checking his movement, Sam gently helped Dean out of his jacket and shirt. The angry, red burn glistened against Dean's skin. "They burned you?!"  
  
"Think it was their way of testing for freshness before chowing down," joked Dean, but his face went even paler at the memory of what he saw taking place in the kitchen when he had snuck in the house.  
  
"That's just sick, man." Sam's hand shook slightly as he cleaned the thread fibers stuck to the wound, then applied the burn ointment.  
  
"Sick family," said Dean, grateful for what little numbing the ointment offered.  
  
Sam leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly across Dean's, reconnecting them after their ordeal. Bracing himself, he needed to ask the question he dreaded the possible answer to, "Did they, uh, you know, hurt you anywhere else? Do anything to you that you haven't mentioned?"  
  
Dean's brow furrowed, then horror crossed his face. "Nothing like that happened, Sam!"  
  
"Okay, okay! I had to ask," said Sam, "anything was possible with those freaks." He stood and carefully hugged him, relief flowing through him.  
  
"Sam, believe me, they only saw me as dinner," said Dean, returning the hug the best he could while sitting in the chair with an injured shoulder.  
  
Sam stowed the first aid kit in their bags and turned back to Dean. "We've still got a couple pain pills, but you'll need to eat something or they might make you ill. It's not that late, I can see if there's anything open down the road and bring it back."  
  
"No!" said Dean, a little more forcefully than he had intended. "I'll be fine, besides I'm not sure I can eat anything right now. All I want is to get cleaned up a little and lie down" He forced himself to his feet and started for the bathroom.  
  
"Need a hand?" asked Sam, grabbing what they'd need from their bags.  
  
"I got it, but thanks," answered Dean, grabbing a washcloth and turning on the hot water in the sink.   
  
"Then I'm getting in the shower," said Sam. He might have had the presence of mind to urinate outside of the cage, but previous occupants hadn't or couldn't.  
  
Dean stripped down and proceeded to do a quick wash. He wrapped a towel around his waist and sat on the closed toilet seat waiting for Sam to finish.  
  
Sam pulled back the curtain, startled to find Dean just sitting there. "You alright? Not feeling light headed or anything, are you?"  
  
"I'm fine, Sam. Stop worrying."  
  
Quickly drying himself, Sam was aware of Dean's gaze never leaving him. Tossing the damp towel over the shower rod, he slipped on a pair of boxers.  
  
Dean stood and made his way out of the bathroom, and headed for the closest bed. He stretched out, closing his eyes at the sheer relief of lying down.  
  
Sam checked the door and turned off the lights he had turned on when he had searched the room, except the one lamp between the beds. He sat on the bed across from Dean, studying the pale face of his brother.   
  
It started to hit home exactly how close they had come to losing this time, and he took a deep, shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, man."  
  
Hearing the tremor in Sam's voice, Dean eyes flew open. "Sam?"  
  
"It was close, wasn't it?" asked Sam.  
  
"Yeah, it was," agreed Dean. "But we've been through worse and come out the other side. You can't let things like that get to you, or they win. You'll end up being too scared to do anything."  
  
Sam just nodded. He knew Dean was right, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with.   
  
Normally, they slept together. It was a part of their relationship that they both accepted and needed. Yet there were exceptions, such as now, when the risk of jostling an injury and causing more pain outweighed the comfort of being close. He climbed into the other bed and turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness.  
  
After a couple minutes, Dean's voice drifted to him. "Sam?"  
  
"Yeah?" Sam waited, but Dean didn't continue. Reaching over, he turned the lamp back on. "What is it? Are you hurting too bad to sleep?"  
  
Dean lifted himself and leaned on an elbow, giving a small shrug, then grimaced at the movement.  
  
"You want to chance that pain pill?" asked Sam, throwing back the covers to get out of bed.  
  
"No, I don't want a pain pill," said Dean, averting his gaze.  
  
"Then what is it?" pressed Sam.  
  
"Aw, never mind." Dean laid back down and stared at the ceiling.  
  
Letting out a loud sigh, Sam once again turned out the light and settled back down. He could feel the tension radiating from Dean from the other bed and turned the light back on. "Talk to me, Dean, what is going on?"  
  
"Nothing," insisted Dean, his jaw clenching.  
  
Sam's eyes narrowed and he got up, moving to sit next to Dean on his bed. He didn't ask again what was wrong, he simply sat there, waiting.  
  
Surrendering to Sam's silent insistence, Dean exhaled loudly. "I'd sleep better if you were here with me."  
  
"But your shoulder . . .,"  
  
"Will be fine, I just need you close right now." Dean darted a look at Sam before continuing. "I need the security of having you next to me, okay?"  
  
Sam grinned. "Thought you said we couldn't let things like this get to us," reminded Sam, but he carefully climbed into bed next to him.  
  
"Yeah, well, we'll start tomorrow," said Dean, wrapping his uninjured arm around Sam and pulling him close.  
  
  
  
  
_*warning incest*_


End file.
